Page 1 of You are the Reason

Prologue

Kinsley - twelve years of age

I can hear my mother calling in the distance, most likely rambling on about something I’m to blame for. I roll my eyes so hard they almost fall into the back of my head. Opening them, I squint into the horizon, from the position of the sun I assume the time to be around 7.30am; half an hour before I can leave for school.What do you say Kinsley? Do you want to go inside, trap yourself indoors? With a mother who most likely just poured herself a glass of vodka, when she realised she had no milk for her coffee? Or, bask in the sun?The warmth of the morning sun answers the question for me, and I roll over, flopping onto my stomach.

I’m sure other parents would fret if their daughter wasn’t in the house when they woke up, but not my mum. I’ve been waking before the sun rises for a while now. Two years today to be exact. Some nights I’m not actually sure if I sleep at all; deep down I think she knows it too. Sitting up, I stretch my arms high, reaching for the sun as if my fingers were able to sweep across the sky, then I climb down the metal ladder attached to the side of the concrete water tank.

My feet sink into the damp soil at the base of the ladder. The concrete structure now blocks the sweet glow of the sunshine. The shade I now stand in mimics the weight of the shadows slowly circling me. It’s almost as if when I’m up there, I’m away from it all. It’s my escape.

I walk in through the back door, kicking my boots off as I go.‘Good Morning, Meadow. Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.’I sing under my breath, as the back door slams shut behind me. Pausing momentarily, I wait to see if she greets me.Well what do you know, silence.My footsteps echo down the hallway on the old wooden floor boards before I turn the corner into the kitchen, a single wrapped gift has been left on the kitchen table.

“Yeah, happy twelfth birthday to me,” I mutter.

Chapter One

Kinsley

The feeling of buzzing under my pillow draws me out of my sleep. I mutter nonsense as I roll over and fumble for my phone, 6.25am on a Tuesday,who would be calling me at this time?

Staring at the incoming, unknown caller I answer, “Hello, Kinsley speaking.”

“Miss Fallon, my name is George Watson. It’s come to my attention that you are working with a private investigator —”

His words trail off as my heart drops into my stomach, and the familiar sensation of a weight crushing my chest begins to overwhelm me …shit shit shit,it’s too early for this, especially today. I hang up the phone without thinking and quickly power it off. Focusing on my breaths to try and ground myself, I count; in 1, 2, 3 — hold, out 1, 2, 3, 4. People run out of phone battery all the time, right? I’ll turn my phone back on in an hour or so once I have had a coffee and a shower, then call him back.Yes, perfect plan Kins.

My breathing begins to slow once again and the weight crushing my chest disappears. I successfully calmed myself before the anxiety attack set in —winning.They don’t happen as often as they once did, but when they do I tend to spiral fast, so being able tosnap out of itis a bonus in itself.

My hands twist my hair up into a messy bun whilst the smell of coffee drifts up the stairs. The comforting aroma makes me smile. It takes me a while to float back down to reality, remembering that I live alone, and I do not own any fancy appliances that brew your morning coffee at a designated hour. However, that would be handy.

I should probably be concerned, but if there is one thing I do know, it’s that the life of Kinsley Fallon isn’t black and white. I live somewhere in between and I’m unsure whether that keeps things interesting, or has sent me damn crazy. Climbing out of bed, I smile to myself because the aroma that has most definitely filled my entire apartment only means one thing …he’shere.

“I’m going to change the locks this week!” I call out to him, as I make my way downstairs.Lie. A little something I tell myself to keep him at arm’s length, but deep down, I know I crave these moments. I eagerly await his visits. The rose colour staining my cheeks betrays me every time.

“Oh, you wanna hide from me?” Tanner says as he grabs me from behind and presses kisses to my neck. “We can play if you want,” he whispers. The warmth of his words on my skin causes me to clench my thighs together. I struggle to have any self-control around him.

Playfully, I push him away and pick up my coffee from the island bench. I need a caffeine fix before I deal with this moody man-child. A moment to remind myself that I shouldn’t let him get too close. Is it so bad that I like to play hard to get? I enjoy the chase. Well, him chasing me. But only in the metaphorical sense, of course — not like through the woods or anything, I’ll stick to reading about that in my books.

I moved into this one-bedroom apartment six months ago. It’s nothing special but it’s everything I need. It also comes with Tanner, when he decides to drop in unannounced. His parents own the apartment, but with them newly retired and off travelling the world they left their properties, and the real estate business they own, to their son.Their olive-skinned, blue-eyed son.

Can you really blame me for not changing the locks?I know, I knowit’s for my safety, but the one person I would be locking out brings me coffee with a side of orgasms.

Feeling his gaze behind me, I take a sip of my coffee and turn to face him. He’s leaning on the door frame with his arms folded across his chest, the corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. I meet his eyes, now realising that I’m only wearing a white camisole and lace thong. The phone call that had woken me had sent me into a frenzy and I hadn’t grabbed my robe.

Looking up at him through my lashes I see that he’s dressed for work; dark wash denim jeans and a crisp linen button-down shirt. His suit jacket, which is currently draped across one of the kitchen stools, ties everything together. Sophisticated yet casual. The way his sleeves are rolled up shows off his tattoos, I find myself dragging my bottom lip through my teeth at the sight. His hair isn’t messy today either, which means he is in the work car and not on his bike.

“You know, if you had called first, or even knocked, I would have made sure I was dressed appropriately for company.” I lie,again,there is something about his attention that I crave. He chuckles, the sound alone sending goosebumps down my spine.

“No complaints from me.” Tanner shrugs, taking a step closer, his ridiculously sexy smirk now reaching his eyes. My lips part, ready to tell him he can let himself out, but before I can, he closes the gap between us. With one firm finger he tips my chin up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Why do you do that?” He sighs, taking the coffee cup from my hands and placing it down. “I can see that you want to tell me to leave, when really, I know you want me to stay.” Gripping my hips, he lifts me onto the island and stands between my legs. In this position, I can feel his length growing in his jeans.

“Tanner,” I beg, not even sure what I’m asking for. My hands are pressed against his chest and I’m only a heartbeat away from pushing him backwards, yet he’s right, all I want to do is pull him closer.Dammit Kinsley, pull yourself together.

His lips and the stubble on his chin graze that little spot below my ear and he whispers, “Tell me to go and I will, I’ll walk right out that door and close it behind me, is that what you want?” I shake my head gently before something within me snaps. I fist my hands into his shirt, tug him closer and melt into his kiss. He pulls back at the last second. “What have I told you about using your words, Kinsley?”

Fuck,I moan inwardly, this moody man. I’ll never let him know how far I would go, or what I would be willing to do for him. No. That is not something I will ever disclose.

“N-no.” I manage to get out between my heavy breathing. “I don’t want you to go.”

---